Wellington Street
“This all started as a social experiment…
As part of my course work, I was asked to investigate a specific stretch of road in order to explain how communities can develop stories and shared experiences. The posts that will follow will be a collection of the reported true tales, fabrications, and actual works of writing produced by the population of Wellington Street.
I cannot verify all that will be included, only speculate.
What I can be sure of, however, is that there was no way I could have predicted the strange and often frightening quality of the stories I have encountered. Names of the people will not be included for the sake of anonymity, but effort will be made to change as little as possible.”
— March 15th 2014
Newspaper 1 “The Obituary”
“So I told him why...why I was waiting in the park, and why my sister was still at home.”
Factory 1 “The Operating Theater”
“There was someone with us. He was tall, and wore a long black leather smock. His face...it was horrible...”
Building 11 “Stranger at the Door”
“His clothes were wrinkled and spotted with stains. But his most obvious feature was he missing an eye.”
Unknown Location 3 “The Dark of the Closet”
“…the skin between my fingers begins to crack and itch when they dry. After weeks of this my hands have begun to bleed, but I keep cleaning.”
Building 10 “The Cube House”
“The woman had lost a large amount of blood, and her breathing was shallow.”